Lambs
by Shiro Ryuu
Summary: [Reposted, renamed, revamped] A Katan introspective about the time in book one that he committed the very unKatanlike act of sacrificing a city’s worth of young ‘lambs’, and how it ever got that far.


**Disclaimer: **Sometimes I think Kaori Yuki even owns **me**, so...

**AN: **Written under the influence of a mind-blowing amount of new music and wallpapers, and a great little book called Ender's Game (hence the abuse of bold formatting, if nothing else). Also written because of being blocked on 'Imperfect Sky' xx-.- Is it right that Katan would've been around when Rosiel asked Alexiel to kill him, or is my timeline screwed up? Don't forget to review!

* * *

The plan had been a long time in the making. That was a pity, all that time, a real pity because it'd dulled the pain. Most of the time the pain of his loss only came out at night, now, because the rest of the time he could convince himself that it was only temporary - that this plan, which seemed utterly mad at a glance, was actually perfectly reasonable really, and everything was going to be fine. **Fine**, so that it became harder not to think about this horrible thing he was going to do.

The fact was that it was more than horrible, and more than mad, this plan. He preferred to simply think that he would be condemned forever for practicing dark magic, because that way he didn't have to think about just _why _dark magic was forbidden.

(They are all... so terribly fragile... just **children**...)

It got to the point that Katan sometimes actually became thankful for the bureaucracy of day-to-day life in Heaven, because it was the only way he could find to turn his mind off for a while. Because of course he was kept busy, even if everything meant nothing when it wasn't for that one person... Because of course, as comforting as the numbness was in small doses, living this way every day was far too much, if it could even be called living at all.

And when he started thinking about it like that, he felt the worst ever, because it just seemed so appallingly **selfish**, seemed like he was doing it all for **himself **just because he couldn't live without his master. Sometimes he would tell himself that it was for the sake of the 'cause', for bringing the bickering angels in Heaven under control and beating the demons and all that, but really that was garbage. The only thing he could think of to validate this lunacy, the only thing that kept him going, was that he didn't want to save Rosiel for his own sake, but for Rosiel's. If it was all for Rosiel, then it couldn't possibly be wrong, no matter what the price...

* * *

The first day on Assiah, Katan wandered the streets of Tokyo aimlessly, neck craned way back to take it all in, until he couldn't handle the crush any more and discreetly removed himself to the roofscape. Even with it right before his eyes, he couldn't really get his mind around this sheer bulk of humanity. Perhaps there were more humans in this one city than there were angels in all the layers of Heaven... Eventually he deemed himself to be recuperated enough to brave the ground level again, long enough to go through the motions of procuring himself a small apartment because he understood that nice things did not often happen to people who slept on the streets. They took him as a foreigner; well, it was true enough.

That night, like every night, he was kept awake by the sound of cry way back in the back of his head.

* * *

On the second day, it rained, but he went back out into the street anyway. Plenty of other people did too. They carried umbrellas, but he just let the gentle rain soak into him to the bone, and he actually felt almost clean for a little while.

It was Sunday, a fine day for finding believers. He found a somewhat chubby but pleasant-looking young girl, and gave her a floppy disk marked as 'Angel Sanctuary'. For the next few days he watched her closely, feeling the dread growing in his stomach as she grew more distant almost by the hour...

It rained again one week later, and he visited her grave. He couldn't think of anything to say, though, and so he concluded that there was really nothing **to** say, and left.

He stalked the streets again, but he did not give the disk to anyone. He watched a man being mugged, and couldn't do anything because the man's guardian angel would've noticed him. He watched a woman snatch her child back from the road just quick enough to keep it from being run over. Then he went back to his apartment, and he thought about crying for a little bit, but he supposed that it would only make it worse.

* * *

Eventually he fell asleep, and he had a sweet, sweet dream in which he was a child again and Rosiel sang softly to him until he fell asleep. Later on he would wonder about that, wonder about the purpose of that dream and what would've happened if he hadn't had it. But it didn't really matter; the next day, he went out and gave the disk to three more children. One died that evening, and one lasted a week, but one actually seemed to be successful.

After the first child died, he went out to a place called simply 'Circuit' (though there was nothing simple about the neon lights outside that declared it as such). The lights and music throbbed together erratically enough to cause a heart attack if you tried to follow them, and dance floor was not crowded but perfectly filled with a single creature that nevertheless tried to match that dangerous beat. Katan did not dance, and he did not drink, but even so he was sure that there was a reason for coming here just beggingto be understood.

The music pounded romantic words into his ears without mercy, and he thought, as always, of Rosiel. Lord and master, inorganic perfection, shining like a diamond. He had always been so different for the other angels, so different from everyone, and it occurred to Katan to wonder if all those differences were entirely good. Most of all, though, it was strange that such a perfect person could cry, that he could hear him crying even now...

Finally he gave up, there was no good reason for coming here after all, better to just go home. He was amazed by how tired he was, and he fell into a dead sleep without dreams that lasted until well after noon, and the landlord was unhappy.

* * *

Yes, it had certainly been hard at first, but his mind soon began to find ways to cope. The people on the streets didn't have faces anymore, which had the added bonus of helping with the claustrophobia but mainly made it easier when they died. He hadn't been expecting it to take long enough for him to learn to cope, so many more were dying than he had expected, but there was nothing he could do about it. He kept hoping to have another dream like the one before, but he never did, so sometimes he would take a takeout lunch up to the roofscape and remember for a while on his own.

The problem with **that **was that not all of the memories were good. The final battle between the twins seemed to replay itself behind his eyes of its own accord... he had seemed so different, Katan was sure he could never have been that different, but Katan could also have sworn that the Rosiel he knew, pained by her though he was, would never have tried to **hurt **his sister, would never have tried to **kill** her...

It just so happened that Katan knew about the request Rosiel had made of his sister, though he wasn't supposed to. At that time, the knowledge had pained him almost as much as this separation pained him now. Even now, he tended to deny it, to pretend that he hadn't been right, but the truth was that he had been right after all, hadn't he? All that pain that had built up over such a long time, like erosion... all that crying deep inside, like the elastic energy that ultimately caused earthquakes...

* * *

He whiled away the days sleeping in late, so late that his breakfast was his lunch sometimes, and taking whatever that meal was out to a park or up on the roofs or someplace where he could breath, and then locking his heart neatly away for safekeeping before taking to the streets. 'Angel Sanctuary' became the dull void between him and those who surrounded him, became the only thing that kept him safe, and then he worried over dinner that he was going insane, too.

And then, finally, a blur of activity. Alexiel's reincarnation - evils - 'lapis lazuli'... Somehow that was all it was, just a blur of activity, he felt no rush of joy, suddenly he was preoccupied with innocent lambs and sullied hands...

He had never realized that he might feel that way, so on the rooftop he said a short prayer, but it felt empty. He looked around the familiar roofscape, and wondered how much longer it would be around. Then he closed his eyes, and looked at Rosiel's familiar face...

The wind picked up, tousling his hair with cool fingers, and the moon grew large and the lights went out, and he knew he was falling. Strangely enough, the feeling was something like finding peace.

_**Owari**_


End file.
